


all nearness pauses

by jillyfae



Series: live by love: codas & interludes [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Happy Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e01 On Infernal Ground
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 21:17:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14245950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: Reconnection and friendly competition; an excellent end to a date. (On Infernal Groundcoda-fic.)





	all nearness pauses

They're barely through the front door of the loft when Alec drapes an arm across Magnus' shoulders and pulls him into a hug. He sighs, deep and heavy enough Magnus can feel the lift of his shoulders, the movement of Alec's breath against his neck. "I missed you." 

Magnus feels his lips twitch with a smile, and wraps his arms around Alec with a sigh of his own. He agrees, completely, but they've been so serious for so long, split apart and then back together and then Alec off to Idris and _Lorenzo Rey_ but now, now he doesn't have to feel so grim. He can _tease._ Just a little. "We spent all evening together."

"Not the same." Alec's head shakes from side to side, his hair brushing against Magnus' temple as he moves. "I missed you _here._ "

"Standing next to a door?" Magnus lets his smile widen, fill his voice, his heart.

He can practically _hear_ Alec roll his eyes in response. 

"You could have given me a hug at the bar?" Magnus suggests. 

"Hmm." Alec's grunt is clearly a negative.

"And why not?" Magnus knows it's not because Alec is shy; not with the ease with which he holds Magnus' hand or leans in for a quick kiss, not with the way he looks at him across the room, no matter who else is around. But Magnus wonders if it's still difficult, considering how quickly everything has changed around them, between them. 

How has his life become _this_ in a few short weeks? He's used to measuring change in _decades,_ not hours. But tonight, one single conversation was all it took. It's been so long since he felt this light, this warm, the flicker of heat beneath his skin still mostly banked, a trembling sort of anticipation that he's enjoying savoring.

They have all night.

Alec's arms tighten and loosen, and his head curls down closer to Magnus' shoulder. Magnus leans back, his hands sliding down Alec's arms until there's most of a step between them, only their hands still touching. Magnus tilts his head until he can see the edge of Alec's face, the almost squint of his eyes as if he's having trouble deciding how to speak, what to say. "Alexander?"

Alec sighs again, though it's shallower, lighter, and he lifts his head to meet Magnus' gaze directly. "When you're this close, one of those missing Wraith demons could walk up behind us and I don't think I'd notice." Alec shrugs a little as he speaks, but there's no curl to his mouth like he's laughing, no eyebrow lift like he's teasing, no spark of flirtation in his eyes. He sounds, in fact, almost disappointed in himself. It catches somewhere in Magnus' chest, an ache between each breath, shivering and sweet. Alec's not trying to be charming. He's making a tactical assessment. He's reached a conclusion that he's no good at caring about the rest of the world when Magnus is close enough to touch.

Magnus has never been more charmed in his life. He doesn't even try to hold in a breathless laugh, or hide the flush of warmth he can feel across his cheeks, the damp heat in his eyes. "I think that is the best line I've ever heard."

"What?" Alec jerks backwards, eyes wide and surprise stealing his voice for half a breath. "That wasn't!"

"I know." Magnus whispers, unable to speak any louder past the heat still caught in his throat. His fingers curl around Alec's hands, determined not to let go. "That's why it worked." 

Alec huffs out a breath and smiles, that tightening of his lips and sweet lift on one side of his mouth that Magnus loves so very much. He pulls Magnus close again, arms wrapped around each other until Magnus can feel the edges of the metal on his waistcoat pushing into his chest. 

Magnus breathes, slower and deeper than he's managed in ages. "Are we just going to stay here all night then?"

"Only if you want to." Alec's voice is light, almost trembling with amusement. His weight settles back on his heels, his arms relax and his grip shifts enough to pull a little on the edge of Magnus' waistcoat. "But maybe without this? My shirt won't survive prolonged contact."

"Are you telling me—" Magnus leans back and lifts his chin in mock outrage, enjoying the way Alec's eyes follow every shift in his posture, the way Alec's shirt stretches across his chest as his arms brace Magnus' weight as he moves. "—That you are more concerned with the function of your shirt than my style?"

"Never." Alec's voice drops to a whisper, and the skin around his eyes crinkles with the depth of his smile. "I wouldn't dare."

"Then the only other possible conclusion—" Magnus rocks up onto the balls of his feet, feeling the heat of anticipation kindling behind his eyes, beneath his skin. "—Is that you're trying to get me out of my clothes."

"I'm certainly not against the idea." Alec reaches up, fingertips barely grazing Magnus' skin as he touches Magnus' pendant. It is delightfully difficult to breathe, the warmth of Alec's skin a much more important concern as his fingers walk up along the chain until he slides his hand beneath Magnus' collar, the calluses on his skin causing the occasional stuttering pause to his progress until his palm curves around Magnus' neck. There isn't enough pressure to be considered a proper pull, or even a nudge, but the warmth of his hand _encourages_ Magnus to lean back in, and all the worry of the past few days disappears with the touch of his lips, soft and warm and welcoming.

"Hmmm." Magnus flicks his tongue out for one last quick brush against Alec's mouth as they drift apart, and feels a shiver of a laugh caught in his throat at the sharp lift of Alec's breath in reaction. "Why didn't we do that sooner?"

There is the barest hint of the sardonic in Alec's smile before he shakes his head and his expression softens. "I have no idea."

Magnus shrugs away what might have been regret, or embarrassment; he isn't completely sure, and now is not the time to worry about it. Now is the time to ravish his boyfriend. Or be ravished. He's not picky. Magnus reaches up to hold Alec's face, the strong line of his jaw between Magnus' palms. "Let me make it up to you then."

"What if I want to make it up to you?" Alec's voice drops, low and almost rough, one of Magnus' very favorite sounds.

"Completely unnecessary, my Alexander." They drift closer together, Alec's chest just brushing against Magnus' waistcoat, his belt buckle a curve of metal teasing against Magnus' stomach, almost catching on the bottom button of Magnus' shirt. "But I certainly won't stop you."

Alec almost laughs against Magnus' mouth, a soft shift of his breath between them, and Magnus' smile is so wide that, for half a heartbeat, it's almost difficult to kiss him, to keep their mouths together around the shine of joy expanding from his heart.

Almost.

Until Alec's grip tightens around Magnus' neck, and that last bare whisper of air between them disappears as they press as close together as they can. Magnus' fingers curl along Alec's jaw, and he can feel the movement beneath his palms as Alec's mouth opens against his lips. He can taste the hum in Alec's throat and feel the hard thump of his heart against his chest; as close as they can get still isn't close enough, _never close enough_. His hips tilt to push harder and his tongue slides inside Alec's mouth and he can feel the groan in Alec's chest, more heat building between them. He wants more. He needs to feel Alec's skin against his own, needs to be surrounded, to lose everything except Alexander, hot and willing and _here,_ but to do that he'd have to let go. Magnus would have to stop kissing him long enough to do something else, and he can't stop. He never wants to stop.

So he doesn't, and Alec doesn't. They're stumbling backwards through the loft and they're going to trip over something at this rate, but it doesn't matter, he doesn't _care._ It's like their first time, like every time, and yet it's different, it's always different, something deep and aching between them. His heart stutters with every touch, his lungs ache each time he gasps for air between kisses. He loves the way Alec's whole body leans in when he kisses, loves the way his fingers grip Magnus' sides as they move, loves the mutter under his breath when they do, in fact, hit the door-frame.

He loves that stupid grey shirt, which is even softer than it looked and warm with the heat of Alec's skin. Magnus spends an inordinate amount of time with it gripped between his fingers as they kiss, unable to let go.

"I love you," Alec's voice is ragged against Magnus' skin and his heart aches and how? How is this real, and how can he bear it one more second?

"I love you more," Magnus whispers back. He can't tell if he's teasing or not.

Alec's hands pause, and his next kiss against Magnus' neck is soft and slow. He lingers there, right above the chain of his necklace, close enough Magnus can feel the shape of his smile pressed to his skin. "Impossible."

"Have you met me?" Magnus' heart is flying. Alec is impossible, their life is impossible, today was impossible and yet it's all true. "I am excellent at impossible. And I. Fucking. Love. You. The. Most."

Alec shakes his head and his shoulders stutter, accompanied by the slightly choked off sound of swallowed laughter. But still he stays there, they stay there, pressed together as their laughter fades and something else builds. Alec trails his fingers along Magnus' arms, the light touch stealing Magnus' breathe. Alec lifts his head slowly, his breath drawing a warm line along Magnus' neck, his jaw. It's agony to stay still, to stay quiet, to _wait,_ but Magnus does. Alec's mouth _burns_ and Magnus waits, waits as the ache in his chest builds and his fingers clench hard enough that he's half afraid Alec's shirt will tear. 

Magnus shivers as Alec's breath reaches his ear. He can feel Alec's mouth open, can feel the words whispered so very softly, slowly, so quietly it takes a moment to hear what they mean. "I love fucking you the most."

Magnus doesn't whimper. Did not, will not, has _never._ But he can't quite speak and his throat is burning and he has to kiss Alec _now,_ has to taste him, devour him, has to be close enough to scald his skin as the heat between them flares.

He can't touch everywhere at once but that's no reason not to try, no reason not to get past their clothes as quickly as possible. Magnus' waistcoat is tossed on the couch. The grey shirt lands on the floor. Magnus hears a button tear off his shirt as Alec yanks it past his shoulders, and finally he can see, he can touch skin and runes and the the scratch of Alec's chest-hair against his hands, pressed against his chest. They're so _loud,_ the snap of Alec's belt when Magnus finally pulls it free, wet open-mouthed kisses, ragged breathing, the clink and clank of his rings scattering as he flings his hands out and lets his magic send them flying, Alec groaning out mostly incoherent endearments, Magnus laughing when Alec picks him up to help him finish kicking his boots free, the thuds as they hit and skid across the floor.

Since he's half-way there already, Magnus wraps his legs around Alec's hips, his laugh deepening, slowing, a hum, a groan, a kiss. He can feel the shift of Alec's forearms under his thighs, Alec's palms on his ass. Every time Alec breathes his stomach moves and pushes against Magnus' cock and the pressure is exquisite and _excruciating._

Magnus tugs on Alec's hair to pull their mouths apart; he has to lean back as Alec jerks forward, trying and failing to follow Magnus' mouth with his own, but Magnus can't talk with Alec's tongue in his mouth and he can't think with his lips so hot on his and he needs, he needs...  Alec looks _up_ through his lashes and Magnus can't help a small groan at the sight. The circumstances when that has happened before are few and all of them were good (and most of them involved nudity) and he had the same problem when Alec looked up at him across the pool table and—Magnus has forgotten entirely why he made them stop kissing.

Especially when Alec is looking at him like that, flushed and breathless and his hair a mess because Magnus can't stop touching it, touching him. Alec's eyes are wide and dark and the edge of his teeth push against his bottom lip like he's barely holding in... _everything._

"Let me do that," Magnus murmurs, and as Alec opens his mouth to ask he leans in and nips at his newly freed lip. Alec's hands clench and his body jerks and his stomach jumps with his gasp. The pressure on Magnus' cock is enough to make him see stars, white and dancing in his vision between them, but he swallows the groan and finishes what he'd started, one slow soft tug on Alec's lip with his teeth before he lets go. "Why are you still wearing _pants_?" 

"Because you haven't taken them off yet." There's a desperate breathy quality to Alec's voice, but his hands curve and his stomach tightens as he pushes Magnus' cock against his body and _fuck_. Maybe this time Magnus really is blind and his breath burns and his voice dies and he can't— 

Magnus has to blink himself back to himself, and when he does his cock is throbbing and he can feel his nails digging into Alec's shoulders even though he doesn't remember grabbing a hold of them. Which is almost tragic, he's very fond of Alec's shoulders, and he can feel the tension in them, and Alec's whole body trembling around him and he's going to die, no, wait, no. 

He's going to _win._ Magnus takes a breath and pretends neither of them can hear the whine in his throat. "Is that how it is then?"

Alec's hair is half in his eyes and his breath is ragged and oh, how he _grins._

Magnus shoves with his hands and lets go with his legs and Alec grabs and lunges and it's half a scramble and half a semi-controlled fall, but they make it to their bed together. Magnus' mouth chases his hands across Alec's body, rune to rune with fingertips, quick nips and kisses, trying to work his way to his pants. Alec pulls him up so he can't, fingers trailing around his ribs, digging into his back, his mouth hot on Magnus' neck. 

They're in each other's way half-on-purpose and half not because neither can stop; Alec's saying his name over and over and it's all so _good._ Magnus finally gets a good grip on Alec's hips and rolls them both over. The instant Alec's flat on his back he goes after the top of Alec's pants with his mouth, and with one good tug on the corner of the fabric with his teeth it pulls off the button, the zipper half-undone with a rasp and Alec's whole body curves, lifting up with a groan.

"Do you concede?" Magnus breathes out against the one thin stretch of fabric that's all that's left between him and victory. Magnus is so close he can practically taste him already.

Magnus looks up along Alec's body to see his hands clenching, his chin lifting, a swallow so hard Magnus can see the sharp movement of it down Alec's throat. He shakes his head and speaks, his voice a rough croak that makes Magnus shiver. "Pants. Still on."

Magic would be cheating. 

Instead he leans down and kisses Alec's cock through his underwear, slow and hot and open-mouthed. The noise Alec makes is gratifyingly obscene, low and ragged, and his hips jerk up against Magnus' mouth. Magnus lifts his head, just enough his lips don't quite touch anymore, but he's quite sure Alec can still feel his breath move against damp fabric and the hot skin beneath it. He waits until Alec manages to tilt his chin and look down at him, and Magnus lifts one single eyebrow.

He's quite proud of that one eyebrow, especially considering how much concentration it's taking just to remember how to breathe. 

It is entirely unfair how someone that tall and clearly wrecked can move so _fast,_ getting all the way to Magnus halfway down the bed and lifting him and kissing him before Magnus manages more than a blink or two. It's a very _good_ kiss, and Magnus thinks he should be forgiven for going a little hazy with Alec's weight pushing forward, with the feel of his skin, their chests just barely touching as their knees shift with the soft give of the bed, with the press of his tongue and the heat of his breath and _the tug on Magnus' pants._

He feels a quite indignant noise try to escape his throat, but Alec swallows it down and Magnus cannot quite bear to protest again. Instead he grabs Alec's ass and pulls them snugly together.

Magnus loses Alec's mouth as he gasps, as Magnus rolls his hips for more, heat and pleasure and the stiff folds of their pants still caught between them. Alec manages one more tug on their clothes, a nip on Magnus' jaw, just sharp enough to make him shudder. Magnus leans into that shudder, into Alec, into the warmth of his skin and the hard length of his cock in _almost_ the right spot. He can feel the exact moment Alec loses track of his plan, the instant the grip of his hands shifts, softens, the breath before his kiss slows and lingers. The second he loses himself in Magnus instead, when the roll of his hips follows the push of Magnus' hands rather than fighting them, is the same moment that Magnus cannot help but follow back.

There's no longer any hurry, but neither any reason to stop, to stall, and Magnus sighs against Alec's neck as Alec's touch turns gentle, easing Magnus' cock free at last. He groans at the first touch of Alec's fingers, teasing, trailing down his cock, circling his balls, pushing up behind them as his grip firms. 

Magnus groans, and closes his eyes. "I love your hands." He whispers his secret against Alec's skin.

"Just my hands?" Alec turns his head, his voice warm and heavy against Magnus' ear. His hand pulls, just a little, and Magnus' hips follow.

"Maybe." Magnus smiles. He reaches for Alec as Alec had reached for him, slow and careful, a tug of fabric all that is required before he wraps his hand around Alec's cock. Alec's head falls back with a soft stutter of air, his laugh more moan than anything else. Magnus kisses the long line of his neck. "Maybe not."

"Kiss me?"

"Always." He does, they do, and it's so warm. It feels as if the very air slows down around them, tangible against his skin, soft as silk but still not as luxurious as Alec's skin, as the shift of his hands, his lips, his breath, his heartbeat. Time pauses, stretches, the air grows warmer, thicker, there's pressure building between them, inside him, slowly, _slowly,_ slowly. Tension coils in his chest between each heartbeat. He can feel every breath between each kiss.

"Say my name," Alec's voice is a rumble, so low he can feel it through his chest. It makes his heart skip, his breath catch.

"Alexander," Magnus breathes out with a twist of his wrist, and Alec's voice breaks and his grip shifts to Magnus' hips right before his body jerks and he comes apart with the most gorgeous lingering shudder Magnus has ever seen.

His eyes open, though he still looks half blind, half gone. He leans forward anyways, unerringly closer to Magnus. His knees shift and his hands move back to Magnus' cock. "Your turn, love." 

He kisses Magnus again, harder, faster, and what had been warmth is heat, sharp and scalding. Magnus' eyes close and his fingers dig into Alec's arms, his heart beats for Alec, for himself, for both of them. It only takes one, two deep ragged breaths before Magnus obliges, riding the crest, the fall, achingly long and sweet.

He's half draped over Alec's shoulders, half-supporting Alec's head, and he could kind of stay like this forever but he also thinks they'll both fall over in about five seconds.

They do, in fact, tilt over, a slow and graceless tumble onto the bed, and everything's a mess and he looks at Alec, and Alec looks at him, and everything is clear and perfect.

"Does the fact that we're almost still half-dressed mean we both lost?" Alec's voice lifts, the very faintest tremble between the words, the amusement clear in his eyes. 

Magnus rolls his eyes, and flicks his hands and magic flares, pale and almost clear, and he decides he'll deal with laundry later. "Happy now? Naked."

Alec's laugh finally breaks free. He tugs on Magnus' hand, and they shift and kick to rearrange themselves under the blankets instead of on top. It's not until they're almost pressed together again, half buried under gold sheets, that Alec's fingers trace a meandering path along the chains of Magnus' necklaces, pausing against the line of his collarbone before he speaks. "Very happy."

It's hard to swallow, looking at the shine in Alec's eyes, hearing the steady sincerity in his voice. Magnus never knows what to say to that, never knows how to respond in kind. Instead Magnus kisses him, brushing his lips as gently as he can against Alec's cheek, then his mouth.

He hopes it's enough. 

Alec smiles, and his hand slides down until his palm rests flat above Magnus' heart.

It's enough.

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from my tendency to read e.e. cummings, think of Malec, and cry: [all nearness pauses, while a star can grow](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=25957)
> 
> with many thanks to [paperiuni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperiuni/works?fandom_id=6856609) / [poemsfromthealley](http://poemsfromthealley.tumblr.com) for the amazing beta, and maleccrazedauthor ([tumblr](https://maleccrazedauthor.tumblr.com/) / [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maleccrazedauthor)) for the cheerleading 
> 
> also on [tumblr](http://faejilly.tumblr.com/post/172702033758)


End file.
